Warning

Hey all,
Just a warning...
Some of the comments on my blog posts have been hyperlinked to automatically download a virus onto your computer when you click on it. Example: the two comments underneath Laura Cave's comment on my last post.
Not sure how this affects your computer, but just be careful, okay? Don't click on the usernames of the commenters, just in case.
Thats all for now.

Impulse Purchase

I think that the impulse purchase, whether mood-driven, paycheque-driven, or frivolity-driven, it the surest way of making a substantial dent in your pocketbook (retail therapy, anyone?). However, I think that this is the first time in the history of the Asbury/McLeod/Terry/Reynolds/Kalil/Gervais family that a family has expanded due to an impulse purchase.... Ladies and gentlemen, meet Jack Johnson (said as one word)

Mom and I walked into a pet store yesterday, and I decided that I wanted to hold a puppy named Horatio.***The only way to do this was to pretend that we were seriously interested in buying him.

Mom pretended so well that she convinced herself.

Three hours later, she convinced Dad.

Jack Johnson* is a shih-tzu/poodle cross, and he is three months old.

You're all jealous, aren't you.

* Why Jack Johnson? Well, on Gilmore Girls, their dog is named Paul Anka. In true Gilmore-inspired fashion, we named him after my favourite Hawaiian-crooner-artist.....Jack Johnson.

*** What is wrong with Horatio? Capt. Horatio Nelson was the greatest naval fleet commander in British history. But once again, my family ousted my history-buff authority, and insisted that we change his name. It's okay. I chose the new name, too.

Relaxaaaaaaation

I got a phone call on Monday night, asking me if I wanted a ride to Barrie on Thursday morning.
Um, OKAY. So, rather than on SAturday, like I had planned, I am leaving to go home at nine o'clock tomorrow morning.
Awesome....
So I think this week is going to be a lot of visiting, a lot of homeworking, and a whole lot more lazing around.
Sounds like a plan. Join me?

Major Changes

Minor crisis mode. Or, I suppose, major crisis...if you can handle the pun without an audible groan.
Remember my post a few months ago (it's okay if you don't) about finally knowing where I'm going to go with my degree?
Well, I'm going to have to rethink that.
I applied for the CTESL (Certificate to Teach ESL) program, to take concurrently with my degree, assuming that these courses would also count as an English teachable in teacher's college. You know, to go along with history.
Unfortunately not. Linguistics doesn't count either. And, the psychology courses that I've been taking are only acceptable IF they're combined with anthropology or sociology, and then, only accepted at a few selected teacher's colleges.
So, being that I am terribly math and science disinclined, my other option is...
Dun da da dun!
Combined Honours Bachelor of Arts in History and English!
Bam! More than halfway through second year, and looking at switching my major again.
Well, technically not switching, but adding MORE.
This means, unfortunately, that if I'm accepted for this major change, I have two years of English courses to catch up on.
Which means dropping ASL, Linguistics, Psychology, and anything else fun I had planned.
I really don't know what I should do.
Switch? Teach elementary school? Give up entirely? Suck it up and (gulp) take another year to finish my degree.
Oh dear Lord. Suggestions, please.

98.6 Degrees of Separation

Hmmm, so, it's been a few weeks, and I'm trying to think of something interesting to let you all know.
Eight weeks left of class.
Day Camp after that.
Theme is Outrigger Island (aka HAWAII!!!)
Reading week is next week.
Essays are swallowing me whole.

In other news, Mom, Dad, Aunt Deb, Uncle Paul, Ashley, Natalie, and Auntie Ro are all on vacations. I keep getting texts saying "It's 30 degrees here, we're on the beach. I heard you're in the middle of a fantastic blizzard."
And I FEEL like texting "Bite me."
But I don't, because I'm nice like that.
So I pretend I'm in some exotic locale, while I'm strapping on my winter boots, and attempting not to strangle myself with my scarf.
Hell, when my toes defrost, I could pretend I'm walking on the beach.
I hope you're all having a wonderful time!

PS. I heard the title phrase this afternoon in a John Mayer song, and thought that it perfectly represented missing someone...think about it.